Flawed *EDITING* (Chronicles of Narnia & Harry Potter Crossover) (PeterxOC)

106- The Funeral

*peeks out from hiding spot* Hey guys.... I know you all want to kill me right now, *ducks as someone throws a potato* and trust me, I understand completely.

Killing off 1/2 of an otp is completely wrong and I feel really bad about it. Not to mention I bet you all thought I'd fallen off the face of the Earth.

Yes, that's right. Peter and everyone else are actually dead. It wasn't a dream. And to the reader who asked if she got sick because she was pregnant, the answer is no and you'll see why in the next chapter. 😅😥😩😫😖😰😪😭

But I really wanted to stick to TLB and I've been planning to kill them all off since the very beginning. Again, I'm really sorry, but I think you'll all understand sometime in the nearby future. At least, I hope you do. 😬

This is a bit of a depressing chapter so prepare to want cry again. (I did my fair share last chapter.) Also, sorry for the mistakes, I kinda rushed a bit and haven't really gone back and revised it yet. :/

Chapter Inspiration:

- Just A Dream ~ Carrie Underwood

- Haunt ~ Bastille

- You Were Mine ~ Dixie Chicks

- Weight Of Living Pt. I/Weight of Living Pt. II ~ Bastille

- Daniel In The Den ~ Bastille

I sat on the couch with my knees up to my chest, staring at the wall. The bag of his things laid on the coffee table in front of me. I started shaking again and bit down on my hand to keep from crying. Again.

For the first time since I returned to England, I was alone. Susan had spent most of last night with me before going home. Last night was the worst experience of my life. The bed was so cold without him and the whole flat had a stale air to it because Peter wasn't there to break the silence.

I also had the worst nightmare/memory of my entire life. And Peter wasn't there to reassure me that it was just a dream and everything was okay. Because nothing was okay. And it wasn't a dream.

The tea, the actual kind, I had made earlier had gone cold and untouched. I couldn't stomach anything anymore without feeling like I was going to throw up. I closed my eyes, trying to get rid of the tricks my eyes were playing on me.

Everywhere I looked, I saw Peter. I saw him cooking in the kitchen, brushing his teeth in the bathroom, hanging his coat up at the front door, rubbing his eyes while writing in the office, reading a book in bed. It was too much. I lightly banged my head against my knees. "Aslan, help me." I whispered.

I heard a click at the door and my head shot up. Someone was coming in. My first thought was that it was Peter. My hopes died, but rose again when I saw Harry and Eva. We all kept eye contact as they shoved their shoes off and walked briskly to the living room.

My lip wobbled as they drew closer. There was so much pity and sorrow in their eyes, but that was the least of my problems at the moment. The second they sat down, I burst into tears. So much for being strong.

Harry enveloped me in his arms and put his chin atop my head. I sobbed into his shirt, holding onto him desperately. He stroked my hair and leaned back against the couch. I felt Eva touched my hand in a comforting manner and I grabbed hers, squeezing it.

What I needed more than anything at the moment was a shoulder to cry on, and I was using Harry's at the moment. I don't know how long I cried for, but by the time I was down to sniffling, I felt really bad for soaking his shirt. He waved off my apology and gave me another hug.